Portia stood, then reached for the woman. When their hands brushed, somethingsnappedin the air.
“Ow!” Portia cried, jerking her hand back. The woman scrambled to her feet, fear flooding her face as she cowered against the tree.
“I’m sorry!”
“What happened?” I demanded.
Portia shook her fingers. “Nothing. Just static electricity.”
“What?” the woman and I asked at the same time. For a moment, flames danced in the woman’s eyes.
Everything within me stilled. Beside me, Albie stiffened.
A man burst from the woods, panting. “Mistress Drexel!” He skidded to a stop, his gaze darting from Portia to Albie to me. His eyes lingered on our kilts, and wariness entered his gaze.
“It’s all right, John,” the woman said, stepping toward him. She gestured to the three of us. “These good folk helped me.”
Portia stared at the woman as if she’d seen a ghost. “I’m sorry, did you say your name is Drexel?”
Now, the woman looked wary. “That’s right. I was the village healer until the blacksmith’s child died three nights ago.” Her chin wobbled, and she clutched Albie’s bag of coins in a tighter grip. “They blamed me. Accused me of causing it. But I did no such thing.”
“Who are you?” I asked the man.
He shrank back. “No one.”
I stepped toward him, my hand itching for a sword. “I’ll have your name.”
“John Taylor!” he cried. “I’m just a friend. I don’t want trouble.”
Albie put a staying hand on my arm. “You won’t find any here,” he told the man. “Can you help Mistress Drexel with safe passage to her kin?”
“Gladly.”
“Go, then,” Albie said. “Quickly now before the villagers come back.”
John grabbed Mistress Drexel, and the two of them hurried away. They got a few steps, and Mistress Drexel turned back, her blue eyes finding Portia.
“Thank you.”
Portia just stared, her face drained of color.
The humans vanished into the forest, and silence fell.
“That woman was adonum,” Albie said, staring after them. “I’ve never seen the gift manifest in a human.”
“I have,” Portia croaked. She swallowed hard. “I know her name.”
“What of it?” I asked, something unsettling creeping over me.
“Mistress Drexel.” Portia wrung her hands. “I know of one other human who can temporarily borrow gifts from immortals. Oh gods, I think I just saved Chloe Drexel’s ancestor.”
Albie frowned. “Chloe?”
“She’s mated to Alec Murray and Lachlan MacKay.”
I searched my memories. “I’ve heard of MacKay. I don’t know Alec.”
Portia shook her head. “He’s a lot younger than Lachlan. I’m not sure he was alive in your time.” She looked at the stake. “And definitely not in this one.”
